Whatever It Takes
by HPslashSPNLuver92
Summary: AU, OOC. Gory, dark! Addicted!Sam/CrossDress!Harry. Concrete warnings inside! Rated: M! SLASH almost unnoticable! Whatever it takes, they will save Sam from his dark future.


**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.**

**ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!**

**AU, OOC. Addiction, gory pictures! Not for the squeamish! If you squint and turn your head the right way, you can catch some SLASH! Ultimate Warning out for safety!  
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**This is a oneshot, set in Season 4 of Supernatural (no exact point, but I would put it close to the end with some alterations). Dark theme of a crazed mind...**

**FOR THE READERS OF JADE:**

**Please, write your opinion in your review about CrossDress!Harry (in general)! It's for the story Jade, I'm considering putting him in there. Thank you very much!**

**For everyone: Hope you'll like this little dark oneshot! If I forgot one warning, then please let me know, without any hate. I'm not familiar with every phrase in the language of fanfiction. Thanks! And enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Whatever It Takes<strong>

Dark blanket of clouds hid the starry night, the moon barely peeking through their layer, as the wind moved them constantly. Blackness surrounded the small motel on the outskirts of the little town. Silence ruled the territory, as the few guests slept undisturbed in their rooms. Every window was yawning darkly.

All of a sudden, one tiny little rectangle lighted up in golden, shining its light onto the ground behind the building. The small bathroom window was hidden from sight, brave enough to chase some of the darkness away. Inside the door closed quietly and the tap turned on, water flowing straight into the drain, filling the small room with soft gurgles. A pair of shaky hands got in the way of the flow, gathering some of the cool liquid, only to smear it on a sunken, deathly pale, sweaty face.

Sam Winchester has been fighting for his sleep for long hours now. Finally, his enemy had won: the hunger raging inside him kept him awake, attacking him heatedly despite the cool weather. He had escaped into the bathroom as quietly as his dazed mind had let him, trying not to wake his brother. Dean finally had a nightmare-free, restful sleep and Sam didn't want to ruin it for him.

Looking up in the mirror, Sam almost didn't recognize the figure in it. The man in there looked as if he was starved: cheeks sunken, skin white as sheets, bones sticking out here and there under it. The circles around his eyes and the red blood vessels in them were the only ones speaking the truth: many, many sleepless nights.

Sam felt his throat tighten, as if someone wrapped their hands around it and began squeezing slowly. He couldn't believe he had done this to himself. It seemed the best idea at the time. Otherwise, he would have gone crazy without his brother. He should have stopped after Dean came back from Hell, but no, he had to continue it. For revenge… Just like his father… Shit on everything, on family… Only purpose of your shitty life is the fucking revenge…

Sam clutched at his head, as vengeful, raged thoughts plagued his mind. What was wrong with him? He changed so much; even Dean distanced himself from him. Not that he didn't deserve it: he did a piss-poor job of being a supporting family. Just because he wanted to get revenge on Lilith…

"Shut up…" he whimpered out loud. His mind never helped him to get over things. Maybe he should just cut his brain out to stop thinking… Or cut his wrists for long suffering… Sam whimpered again in fear. He knew it was the addiction screwing with him. His body demanded demon blood, it messaged that it needs the usual fix of demon blood… He needed to get demon blood to drink… _Needed… Drink… Demon blood… Need… Demon blood… Demon blood… DEMON BLOOD!_

Sam couldn't stop a sob breaking out of him, as he collapsed onto the tiled floor, his hands subconsciously pressing on his head, to push down the hunger, to silence the demand inside… He should just kill himself… Cut his wrists… And drink the blood… It's demon blood, anyway… At least his tainted blood would be good for something…

He quickly fished his phone out of his pocket: he just realized that he was still in his jeans. Gnawing on his fingertips – his nails were already chewed down to the tender flesh – he dialed the correct number. As he waited for the dial tone to _shut the fuck up…_ his shaking increased in strength, like someone was electrocuting him. He waited and waited… And waited…

With a harsh beep the phone guided him to voicemail.

"Ruby…" Sam choked out. "I need… need it… Please, get the fuck here, right the fuck now!" He quickly lowered his voice before he woke his brother up. There's no need for Dean to find out… "Bring me… Blood… Want blood… Please…" With another beep the phone disconnected the line. Sam buried his fingers into his greasy locks, chestnut darkened to almost black. He suppressed a few spasms as he collected himself, getting ready to leave the bathroom, hoping for Ruby to come quickly…

After a few minutes, Sam scrambled up to his feet and stumbled out of the room after turning off the tap. He settled down onto his bed, curling up tightly, knees pulled up to his chest. He hoped that Dean would sleep this night through… He needed it…

Suddenly movement caught his eyes in the shadows. The room was almost pitch black because of the clouds outside, but the movement was clearly visible. A figure stepped closer to Sam, one arm bent, holding the strap of a backpack on their shoulder. Sam could make out the slim, curved waist, the lithe legs and arms, the black leather clothing, the jacket open to reveal pale skin and a black tank top, and finally waist-length, ebony black hair…

"Ruby…" Sam breathed, his mind dazed. As he took a whiff of the air, he smelt it. His voice instantly became needy. "Please…"

The smell was delicious, and Sam couldn't wait to finally have a taste of that sweet, metallic fluid, tinted with a bitter aroma in the background, which was probably sulfur. A hand stroking his cheek snapped him out of his shock, the veins of the wrist brushing his nose, strengthening the beautiful smell… Sam did everything to hold himself back from the demon, knowing that he had to be patient. His legs slid down onto the mattress and he leaned onto the headboard, waiting for permission to drink.

The slim, light body straddled him, high-heeled, leather boots scratching against his paper-thin skin under the jeans. Thin lips attached to his gently, ordering him to wait a little more. Sam whined at that in protest, but stayed put. A slither of the silver moonlight shot in through the window, reflecting on the blade of the unsheathed knife, before the streak disappeared. Sam felt the tip caressing his cheek lovingly, breaking a shiver out of him.

"R-Ruby…" he choked out, barely containing his hunger.

"Shhhhh…" a small finger rested on his lips. Sam shut his mouth waiting for permission…

And then… he heard the blade slicing into skin and flesh and _blood vessel!_ Sam whimpered as the sweet smell of blood filled his nostrils. The thin lips returned to his softly then the smell strengthened as the cut on the wrist was brought to his mouth. Sam heard a droplet dribble down the pale forearm, so he leaned down and slowly licked it up.

As soon as his tongue touched the small crystal, following back its liquid path, he couldn't stop himself. His lips attached to the cut, teeth digging into the soft skin to suck every little drop from there. For a moment he frowned slightly: where was the bitter taste in the background? But as small fingers started caressing his locks soothingly, warmth filled him, making him forget about it.

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><p>Dean was hidden in the darkest spot of the room, observing the scene in front of him. He was afraid for his brother. He was doubting everything from the moment they'd thought it out. What if it doesn't work? What if it does? What will change? Would Sam get off the stuff but be addicted to another one? So many questions, so many what-ifs, and not a simple, straightforward answer. He was just hoping that it will eventually work.<p>

An emerald flash brought him out of his thoughts. The pair of green eyes were trained on him firmly, like it was reading his soul. He trusted the young man, but there were so many flaws in this plan.

Getting the clothes together was easy. A simple gothic shop was enough. But to substitute someone, who's not even human? Or the same sex? It was just an uneasy step.

Returning to reality, he looked at the result. If those emeralds wouldn't be stuck on him, he would clearly mistake the person in Sam's lap for that demon-bitch. He had to admit, the young man was gorgeous in women's clothes.

With a sigh, Dean retracted his thoughts to the execution of the plan. Only one firm sentence reverberated in his mind now, a message from the emeralds stabbing into him, recited in the strong voice of his friend:

_'Whatever it takes…'_

Meanwhile, Sam was unaware of his surroundings, happily and contentedly suckling on Harry's wrist, like a kitten feeding from its mother's teats.

This time, he can take as much as he wants, satisfying his hunger completely.

_The End_

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><p><strong>So, how did you like it? This is the darkest thing I've ever written. Music was a great influence here.<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed it! See you!  
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